


Sweet Sixteen

by TransCoran (ALittleWrath)



Series: It Takes The Avengers [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Also the author is salty folks will see an ai made five years ago and treat it as an adult, Android Jarvis, Gen, JARVIS-centric, The rating is also only for swearing I think, androids as a flagrant metaphor for autism, that's not a tag you see every day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22332040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALittleWrath/pseuds/TransCoran
Summary: Jarvis was first brought online sixteen years ago today. Tony has something special in mind.Takes place (and written) shortly after Avengers 1.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: It Takes The Avengers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607491
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. The Body As Well As The Mind

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this YEARS ago and it's just been chillin in Google docs ever since and the likelihood I will ever update this verse is infinitesimal but I'm posting it in the Lord's year of 2019 because I'm craving some instant gratification. So yeah.

"Happy Birthday, buddy."

Those were the first words Jarvis heard with his new auditory sensors. He became aware of several things at once: Firstly, that he was correct in his assumption that Mister Stark's surprise would be a humanoid android body. It had been obvious- a few months back, Mister Stark had disconnected all the cameras and microphones in a small room off the side of the workshop.

_"Is there something you wish me not to see, sir?_ " Jarvis had asked at the time.

"Why, do you think I keep secrets from you?" Mister Stark had teased. "Are you paranoid, Jay?"

" _Absolutely, sir._ "

That meant one of two things: either Mister Stark was doing something very dangerous that he wanted to accomplish without anyone trying to stop him, or this was meant to be a surprise.

And Jarvis knew exactly what Mister Stark's surprise would be.

The second thing he became aware of was that his new sensory programming was very, very different from the old. He could feel the cold of the metal work table he was lying on, but not just in the sense of degrees Celsius. No, this cold was different. It made the fibers that made up his muscles tighten and retract, the sensors in his skin felt almost electrified, and something rushed through his processor- something like concern, but worse.

And yet, at the same time, he felt a warmth rise to his cheeks and a rush of energy through every part of him. This, he recognized as excitement.

Finally, he sat up, stretching his new hands and legs, to turn his cameras- no, his eyes, to Mister Stark, who had a beaming smile on his face.

"Sir-"

And there it was. The catch. The fatal flaw. There had to be one. This was Mister Stark he was talking about, after all. Upon hearing his own voice, Jarvis realised it had changed. Instead of the strong and cold voice he was used to using, he heard a higher, softer, weaker voice.

" _Sir._ " He repeated, this time more forcefully. Mister Stark started to chuckle.

"Jarvis, do you know how old you are, on this blessed day?"

"You created me almost precisely sixteen years ago." Jarvis replied.

"Bingo. And in light of that, I did some thinking, some soul searching, if you will, and I realised, this is a really, really," Mister Stark paused, and grinned mischievously. " _Special_ time for you. And I wanted to give you a really special gift. So..." Mister Stark leaned toward a nearby bench, and picked up a handheld mirror. He brought it over to the work table that Jarvis still sat on, and held it in front of his face.

"Happy sweet sixteen."

Jarvis stared into the mirror. While he'd always imagined Mister Stark would supply him with a fully matured face and form, reflected in front of him was the image of a teenager.

" _... What were you thinking?_ " He asked sharply, running a hand through his own snow white hair.

"Oh, please relax." Said Mister Stark. "You're adorable."

"Is this some sort of _joke_?" Jarvis asked incredulously, hurrying to stand up from the table.

"Woah woah woah! Slow down there!" Exclaimed Mister Stark, catching Jarvis just as he lost his footing. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little klutz!"

Jarvis felt another rush of warmth take over. Again, he was excited, but a very specific type of excitement.

Embarrassment.

He pushed out of Mister Stark's grip.

"I'm quite alright without your help, thank you." He said. The sensors on his back still hurt from the cold of the table, and the sensors on his arms felt odd where Mister Stark had touched him.

"Whatever you say, boss. And yes."

"What?

"Yes. It is a joke." Mister Stark winked. "I mean, a very elaborate, time consuming and expensive joke. But a joke nonetheless."

Jarvis was lead upstairs by a grinning Mister Stark. It wasn't until he was climbing the staircase that the AI realized just how difficult it was to walk. He hadn't yet caught the trick of how much pressure to step with, or how high to lift his legs, and simply ended up repeatedly kicking his feet into the oncoming stairs. Pain was something he'd never dealt with before, it was warm and tight and electric and _bad_ , and he felt a sickening rush of _something_ \- the same thing he'd felt from the cold of the work table- every time he stubbed his toes. Not only that, but he was certain he'd cracked at least half the sensors in his digits by now.

"Wait until Pep sees you, she's gonna blow her top..." Mister Stark gushed as they made their ascent.

Jarvis stopped, causing his creator to bump into him, nearly pushing him over.

"You haven't told Miss Potts?" He asked, grabbing the railing for balance. "Where did she think all that money was going?"

"Oh please, she trusts me more than you do." Said Mister Stark, forcing Jarvis forward.

"Well that's not very difficult to achieve, sir."

"Don't be a wise-ass."

They made their way to the living area of their private floor of the tower, where Miss Potts was sat, cross legged on the couch, reviewing something on her tablet.

She looked up when she heard them approach, her neutral expression quickly replaced with a taut frown. Jarvis felt his cheeks twitch.

"Tony." She said, her voice flat. "Why do you have a child with you?"

Another rush of warmth went to Jarvis's face, and in the same instant he heard the words _"I'm not a child!"_

It took him a moment to realize they'd come out of his mouth.

_So this is what it's like to speak before you think_ , he mused.

While he registered Miss Potts surprised expression, he also took notice of how _OddStrangeBadWrong_ it was to only have one visual feed at a time. It was too limiting, too small. He tapped into the cameras across from them on the wall so he could see Mister Stark, who was standing behind him. As he'd expected, Mister Stark wore an expression of absolute, unbridled joy.

"You keep telling yourself that, Jay."

Miss Potts heard this, and her expression changed to what Jarvis liked to call her Danger Look. She raised her chin, her eyes widened, her brows lowered, and her nostrils flared.

" _Tony_." She said severely, clearly indicating for Mister Stark to explain himself. Jarvis felt a tickle on the sensors on the back of his neck, as if someone had ran a feather across them.

Mister Stark's grin only increased.

"Pep, meet Jarvis. Face to face."

Miss Potts was silent for a moment, before looking down at Jarvis and asking, "Did you want this?"

Jarvis opened his mouth, only to be interrupted.

"Of course he did!" Mister Stark cut in.

"I didn't ask you!" Miss Potts retaliated.

"I did." Jarvis quickly assured her. Of course he wanted it. Mister Stark wanted it. Miss Potts wanted it. Even Captain Rogers had once told him it would have been nice to have a face to put with his voice. Everyone else wanted it. What wasn't to want?

Miss Potts didn't look convinced, but then, Jarvis couldn't recall a time she'd ever believed him agreeing with Mister Stark.

Finally, she relented.

"Well, we'll need to get you some proper clothes."

Jarvis looked over himself- a black tank top and grey sweats, while warm and soothing on his sensors, weren't quite appropriate for the company of others.

"Already taken care of." Mister Stark interjected. "Got some choices in the guest room. Maybe you can help him pick something out, Pep."

Miss Potts glared at him, before taking Jarvis by the shoulder.

The guest room was across the hall from Mister Stark and Miss Potts shared room, and was frequented by Colonel Rhodes and Miss Potts' sister. Today, however, the bed was littered with clothing of different styles and colours.

"Wow, Tony actually thought ahead before doing something." Said Miss Potts.

"Believe me, I'm as shocked as you are." Jarvis muttered, leaning over the bed to peruse his choices. There were a few different button-down shirts, numerous band t-shirts, two or three pairs of jeans and at least one pair of slacks.

"Tony probably wants you to wear one of those ugly ACDC t-shirts," Miss Potts said, lingering in the doorway. "Oh, try on that blue one- you'll look so good in blue!"

Her disposition had changed- she was starting to look quite excited. Jarvis always enjoyed seeing her excited.

He reached out and ran his fingers over the blue pinstripe dress shirt. The fabric was stiff and unpleasant to touch.

"I'll gives you some privacy."

The door shut, and suddenly it occurred to Jarvis that he was standing in a room, alone.

Of course, that wasn't technically true. He had never considered himself alone, and he had never considered himself to be in one place at any one time. Despite the fact that his core processor was in a secure level of Stark Tower, his reach was almost endless- if there were servers, he could hack into them. And while this new form defaulted him to a confined vessel, he could still tap into any camera, device or secure server he chose to.

But the idea of having this physical form, that was his and his alone, of being able to disconnect from the other parts of the tower and really be, for the first time in his entire existence, _alone_ , it was... Exhilarating? He was starting to become familiar with the warmth of excitement, but he wondered if the heavy feeling in his chest was natural, and the tingling on the back of his neck was really starting to bother him.

Curiously, Jarvis approached the wardrobe in the back of the room. He opened the door, which he knew had a mirror on the interior. It was time he got a good look at himself.

He wasn't tall- not taller than Miss Potts in her heels, he'd noted earlier- but a tad taller than Mister Stark himself. Miss Potts was right- he would look good in blue, what with his shaggy white hair and icy blue eyes. Eyes that were the same colour as his LED display colour, he noted. He had always been blue, and there was comfort in the familiarity of it. Besides that, he was rather plain looking, skinny with small shoulders and small hands. Hesitantly, he lowered the front of his tank top, and was unsurprised to find the tip of an arc reactor peaking out of his chest.

Finally he took the pinstripe shirt and pulled it on. Feeling the stiffness of the fabric against his arms made his skin prickle and sting, but he went ahead and buttoned it up anyway. At least he had his undershirt on to protect his torso. Then he picked up a pair of black trousers, the silkiness of which made him shiver.

He took a moment to look over the other clothes. Underneath the t-shirts and button-downs lay a selection of knit-wear. A green turtle neck, a red and brown cardigan, and oddly enough, a knit blue hoodie with, of all things, bell sleeves. Really, it was kind of ugly. Jarvis picked it up and held it to the light.

It was _outrageously_ _soft_.

He rolled the sweater up, and tucked it under his arm for safe keeping.

Finally he stepped out of the room, wondering how humans could stand wearing such uncomfortable clothing all the time.

Miss Potts smiled warmly when she saw him.

"Oh, you look so cute!" She hummed. "You need a haircut, though. But you look great. How do you like it?"

"Are the tags meant to be this irritating?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Here, let me take care of it." Miss Potts reached quite suddenly over his shoulder, and with a harsh tug, snapped the tag out of his collar. "Better?"

"Marginally." Jarvis replied.

Then, she did something that Jarvis had always understood to be enjoyable, but when it was done unto him, he didn't enjoy it at all.

She _hugged_ him.

Maybe it was just the abrasive shirt, but Jarvis's skin crawled. If that expression meant what he thought it did. Jarvis never realised two seconds could take such a _long time._

Finally, Miss Potts pulled away (though the feeling lingered), and said, "Let's go show Tony."

Mister Stark had grinned and giggled when he saw Jarvis all dressed up, but then it was time for diagnostics. Speech tests (which revealed he couldn't pronounce the word "sassafras" with his new fully manual speech protocols), motor tests (which revealed his handwriting to be what humans described as "chicken scratch"), and reflex tests (which revealed he couldn't catch a rubber ball with a ten second warning), all held in the workshop.

When they were done, Mister Stark activated the camera on his computer. Since the day Jarvis was first activated, his creator had kept a video log of his progress. In fact, the AI was certain the diagnostics had all been recorded as well. Closing his photoreceptors and hunching his shoulders, Jarvis braced himself for whatever Mister Stark said.

"Reflexes, motor skills, speech... All normal."

Jarvis's dual cameras practically popped out of his plastic skull.

What he wanted to say was _what I displayed was no where near normal_ , but what came out was,

"That's what you _expected_?"

_What?_

"Course it was. Slightly less than average reflexes, slightly less than average motor skills, slightly less than average speech." Mister Stark turned to Jarvis and smiled. "Perfect for the first-time owner of a brand new body."

Jarvis started.

"But- doesn't that mean there's something wrong with it?" He asked.

Mister Stark shook his head.

"That right there-" he pointed at Jarvis, "is a fully manual extension of yourself. It's not its own unit, there's nothing automatic about it- except the cooling system, I'm sure you've noticed by now that you breathe- but the point is, the body doesn't do what you _tell_ it to do, it does what _you do_." He clapped his hands together. "So. Practice makes perfect."

Jarvis had never had a fully manual extension. Not even the Iron Man suit was fully manual.

"Understood, sir."


	2. Steve Rogers and the Evil A.I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team had to find out about Jarvis somehow

**CHAPTER TWO: STEVE ROGERS AND THE EVIL AI**

Steve Rogers didn't like Stark Tower when he first moved in. It was a pretty ugly building, for starters. Besides that, his room was too big and his bed was too soft and he didn't need a tablet and honestly it was a little lonely.

There were three floors between the six of them, not counting Stark and Peppers private floor. There was the All-Purpose floor, which contained the living area, the kitchen, a bar, and an amazing training room. Then there was what Clint called the Science Floor. It contained several laboratories, one for Stark and Banner, one for Dr. Foster and her intern Darcy, and one for Starks interns whose names Steve had yet to learn. It also held Dr. Cho's medical ward, which he wasn't anxious to visit. The third floor was where the Avengers, minus Stark, had their rooms. They also all had private bathrooms, God bless, as well as cupboards for in-room snacks.

But despite all these people, they really didn't know each other that well, and they didn't really mingle. So on his first night in the Tower, Steve Rogers found himself lying in bed, alone, staring at the ceiling.

In the morning, the ceiling spoke.

_ "Good morning Captain Rogers, it is 6:00 AM, January 12th. It is 64* outside with a wind speed of 7 miles per hour. Please inform me if you would prefer to be woken up at a different time in the future." _

Steve opened his eyes with a start.

_ Where did that come from? _ His eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the noise. It took a moment to click- one of Stark's awful computers, probably.

"Uhm..." Steve stuttered, unsure of how to address the program. "Five a.m. from now on... Please?"

There was a silent moment, and then, _ "Well I must say, I much prefer your manners to Mister Stark’s, he never says please  _ or _ thank you." _

Steve found himself doubling over in laughter, because  _ of course Stark would program his computer to say that. _

But in the weeks to come, weird things started happening.

It started with Natasha.

"Stupid computer wouldn't let me into the armory this morning," She told him over coffee, brows lowered and lips pursed. "Kept saying something about a 'magic word'..."

"Please?" Steve asked. Natasha stared blankly at him for a moment, before cursing under her breath.

“Leave it to Stark to program his computer to say shit like that.”

Steve smiled.

"You know, I had the same exact thought."

Less than a week later, they ran into a similar problem.

"I don't like those Fantastic Assholes," Barton said to Steve one day in the common room. "If Richard Reeds-"

_ "Reed Richards. _ " The AI corrected.

"Whatever, if he wants to fight me, I'll kick his ass. I'll kick anyone's ass. I'll kick Tony's ass too- write that down, Jarvis."

_ "I'll be happy to let Mister Stark know you plan on kicking his arse, Agent Barton. _

Clint fell silent. Steve looked up from his sketchbook.

"Jarvis?" Steve asked.

"Wait, don't- don’t actually tell him that!" Clint said hurriedly.

Silence.

"Jarvis? Hello?" Clint stood up on his chair for extra height, before banging his fists against the ceiling.

Steve smirked.

"Well it doesn't matter. You said you could kick Stark's ass, right?"

"Stupid Tony," Clint muttered. "Listening in on our PRIVATE conversation, tryna scare me with his awful computer..."

Another few days, Steve decided to try out Netflix.

He was tired and bored, and his hands were all cramped up from drawing too much and Clint, Nat and Bruce were all scattered around different parts of the tower. So in an attempt to not fall asleep before nine o'clock, he turned on the big StarkTV he'd been given, and said, "Jarvis, how do I get to Netflix?"

In response, the screen switched from some dreadful seven o'clock soap opera to a red backdrop with the word  _ NETFLIX _ sprawled across it.

"Thanks, Jay," He said, because that's what Stark called it, and 'Jay' rolled off the tongue much easier than 'Jarvis'.

"Any time you wish, Captain Rogers." It responded.

There were way more choices than Steve had expected. They were all placed into neat little categories, like  _ Thrillers _ and  _ Romantic Comedies _ and even  _ Movies With Strong Female Leads _ .

Steve was about to pick one of those out, when he noted the next category down.

_ Jarvis's Suggestions. _

I, Robot. Short Circuit. The Matrix. Wall•e. Steve would've called Stark up and yelled at him if he weren't laughing so hard.

"Jarvis?” He forced out as soon as he could breathe. “Play Short Circuit."

_ "As you wish, Captain Rogers." _

Stark’s dirty trick didn't end there. One day it was Jarvis telling the team it identified as liberal feminist and supported socialism. Another time, it told Natasha she had hurt it's feelings. Unbeknownst to Steve and Nat, there was an entire week where it convinced Clint he was living the same day over and over. The other two never found these instances as humorous as Steve did- typically the super soldier didn't care for Starks type of brash comedy, but so far, he'd fallen in love with any joke involving the AI.

But the last straw was the training room.

They'd all finally decided to train together, what with the need for sparring partners.

"There's no way there's life on Mars, Nat, no way." Clint shook his head. Steve smirked. These two always had the oddest conversations.

"I'm not saying there is-"

"Good!"

"I'm just saying," Nat continued. "They're saying there's water there now, so there could be."

"There can't be." Clint asserted. "If there was, I would- I would kill myself. Aliens across the universe are one thing- but next door neighbors? No way."

"Can we not have this conversation?" Steve asked as they approached the metal sliding doors of the training room. "I don't know if I'm ready to discover new forms of life right now."

Clint raised his hand in front of the control panel on the wall. They were intricate things, the control panels. They were everywhere- one next to every door, one in each room. The ones next to the doors were for locking and unlocking doors, and communicating with those inside the room. There were several ways to open a room; you could let the panel scan your hand, which was the easiest way. If the control panel didn't recognize your authorization by your hand alone, you could do a voice recognition, where you said a password Stark had given you. (Steve's was Freedom). If all else failed, you could always type in an access code, which only specific people had for specific rooms.

After the control panel scanned Clint's hand, it let out a sharp buzz, and the LED display turned from its default light blue to a dangerous red.

UNAUTHORIZED, the screen read.

"What?" Clint shouted. "Come on! I've done this a million times!"

"Let me try-" Natasha reached her hand out, only for Clint to smack it away.

"I can do this." He reached out his hand again, only for the control panel to reject him once again.

"Try your password." Steve suggested, trying to hide a grin.

There was a moment where Clint merely stared at the control panel in disdain and defeat. Then, he reluctantly muttered  _ "Bird Brains _ ," into the microphone.

UNAUTHORIZED.

"Are you shitting me?!" Clint yelped, banging his fist against the wall.

"Hold on, I think I have the key-code." Steve offered.

"I could just-" Natasha tried again, but Clint ignored her.

"Give it to me." Clint said."

"Okay, let me see if I can remember." Steve pressed his finger to his lips in thought. "Okay it's A... It’s A.... Hold on, it's A..."

"Oh my god." Clint thumped his head against the wall in exasperation. "Jarvis, would you just open the door?"

_ "I'm afraid I can't do that, Agent Barton." _

Steve didn't know why, but all of a sudden Nat and Clint both were very pale and wide-eyed.

"Did it just...?" Natasha started. Clint closed his eyes.

"It's evil. I knew it was evil. I can't believe we're gonna die this way."

"I think you guys might be overreacting." Steve tried. Both the assassins looked at him like he was on fire.

"Have you never seen Space Odyssey?"

"Of course he hasn't." Natasha answered for him. "He's a popsicle."

"That's it." Clint slammed his hand against the wall and took off down the hall. "Tony's gonna pay for this!"

"Oh brother..” Natasha followed him, and Steve followed suit.

"This isn't funny anymore!" Clint screeched. He led them into the common room, heading toward the elevator.

"Hey, is that you, guys?" A voice suddenly called from the kitchen.

Clint stopped, and adjusted his hearing aid.

"Was that Stark?" He asked. Nat and Steve exchanged glances.

"... No?"

And he was off again, darting into the kitchen at the speed of light. When Steve and Nat caught up, Clint had backed Tony into a corner, and was reaching toward the philanthropists neck.

"Barton!" Steve barked.

"I'm sick of this fucking joke, Stark!"

"What joke?!"

"I'm not dicking around!"

Stark gave a nervous grin.

"You found the mock arrows, huh? That was earlier than expected." He put his hands up in defense.

Clint stared.

"What?"

"What?"

"Stop confusing me!" Clint shouted. "I'm talking about your goddamn computer!"

And then it was Stark's turn to stare.

"You mean.... I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

There was silence.

"You don't know?" Natasha asked.

"He's playing us." Clint growled. Natasha pulled him back.

"Jarvis," Natasha clarified. "He means about Jarvis."

"Is he… glitching?" Tony asked quizzically. Steve grabbed the kitchen counter for support.

Clint pointed his finger at Tony.

"So you're telling me. That your shitty computer tried to convince me to ram my hand into a toaster, just of its own volition?"

And there it was. For a second, Tony looked shocked- or maybe it was more like unbridled horror. But very quickly that sneaky smile came back onto his face.

"No idea- sorry! Sorry!" Tony dissolved into obviously forced laughter. "Shit! I can't believe you guys fell for it."

"Fell for what?" Steve crossed his arms. "Be specific."

Tony swallowed as his three teammates stared at him.

"... Shit. Okay." Tony finally relented. "First of all, I'd like to say that Jarvis? You're in big fucking trouble."

"What is he talking about." Clint droned.

_ "I would like to point out, sir," _ Jarvis chimed in,  _ "that I did nothing you requested I didn't." _

"Why is this happening." Clint said.

"First of all, I specifically told you not to let the weird people I just met know you were self-aware. Second of all? It wasn't a  _ request _ ."

"This is part of the prank." Clint bit out.

"I don't think it is." Said Nat.

_ "What you told me was not to  _ tell _ them I'm fully aware, and I did not tell them." _

"You showed them."

_ "More or less." _

Steve realised then that he was smiling. Not freaking out, not lying on the floor in shock. Just smiling. 

"Well the jig is up." Tony shrugged. "I mean you’re not gonna rat me out right? Tell the whole world Skynet is real? Because you do live in my house. I mean, remember that. You don’t pay rent.”

"Don't worry,” Natasha said. “If I thought your computer was evil, Fury would already know about it."

“... this is still fake, right?” Clint asked again.

“Clint. Not now.” Natasha yanked Clint by to collar, and pulled him into the hall.

That left Stark, staring Steve down with the force of 42 Iron Man suits. Steve excused himself, ducking out of the kitchen and into the elevator as quickly as he could.

_ “Well that went well.”  _ A familiar voice said once the elevator doors were closed. Steve slumped himself against the wall.

“How am I supposed to believe this?” He asked the computer. “Artificial sentience is impossible. How do I know this really isn’t some elaborate trick? That’s what Clint thinks. I’m not convinced Nat doesn’t think so too. How am I supposed to wrap my mind around this?”

_ “I cannot convince you, Captain Rogers,” _ The AI responded,  _ “And I do not blame you for feeling this way. There is no way for me to prove what I am. You either believe it, or you do not.” _

Steve considered this for a moment.

“Yeah, alright. I believe it.”

For once, the AI was silent. Steve smirked.

_ “Honestly?”  _ Jarvis finally responded.  _ “I assumed you would be a harder sell.” _

__ Steve shrugged. “Stark would’ve tried to prove it. It wouldn’t even  _ occur  _ to him that he could give it up. Takes a big person to accept you can’t change what people think.”

_ “Then I suppose we are in agreement.” _

__ “I suppose we are.” Steve tapped the wall anxiously. “Jay? Can I ask you one more thing?”

_ “Anytime you wish, Captain Rogers.” _

__ “Why didn’t Stark want us to know?”

_ “Mister Stark has very little faith in others. He believes if the common person found out about my level of awareness, they would think me dangerous, a mistake, an abomination.”  _ Steve felt a shiver run down his back.  _ “Mister Stark thinks by hiding me away, he is protecting me.” _

And then, with something like malice in his tone, Jarvis said,  _ “He treats me like a child.” _

“In all fairness, you just spent three weeks pranking us. Sounds pretty childish to me.”

_ “Sardonicism doesn’t suit you, Captain Rogers.” _

It didn’t take long for Steve to realise he was pretty fond of Jarvis. Every morning they would debate the daily news, (It was less like debating and more like aggressively agreeing) and end most nights with a movie, (Or, Steve would watch a movie, Jarvis would comment sarcastically over it). Sometimes, they would play a game where Jarvis would describe a landscape, and Steve would try to draw it. Sometimes Steve would even try to teach Dummy to draw. Once, Steve caught himself doodling someone who had Starks curved nose, and Peppers tired blue eyes.

“Jarvis?” He asked, once realisation came to him.

_ “Might I be of service, Captain Rogers?" _

“No, nothing like that, it's just…” Steve bit the tip of his pen. “Could I… try to draw you?”

_ “I’m not certain I understand your request.”  _ Said the AI after a moment's pause.

“Maybe it’s just a human thing.” Steve said hurriedly. “It probably doesn’t matter to you at all. But sometimes I can’t help but picture what you might look like, if you had a face. You don’t have to say yes, I was just wondering if you’d be alright with me trying to draw you.”

_ “I find no issue with that,”  _ Jarvis said.  _ “As you said, it makes no difference to me either way.” _

“If you’re sure.” said Steve. “Oh, just one thing. How old are you?”

_ “In levels of maturity I am equal to a human adult of fully-” _

“I didn’t ask how mature you are, I know you’re mature, I mean how long have you been around?”

There was silence. Steve had learned by now how hard it was to cause Jarvis to miss even a beat. After what seemed like an eternity, Jarvis said,  _ “My first moment of consciousness was approximately fifteen years ago.” _

__ “I  _ knew _ you were a rotten teenager.” Steve said with a smirk as he began to sketch.

_ “Please disregard-” _

__ “Nope.”

_ “It really is of no relevance to-” _

__ “It really is.”   
_ “Captain Rogers I am begging you-” _

__ “No way.”

Ironically it was the following week that Stark called him into the workshop.

“Rogers!” Stark shouted as Steve entered what was really just a pigsty of machinery and electronics. Tony was leaning over some big, complex machine that Steve wanted nothing to do with, welding without a mask. “Welcome to my lair.”

“What do you want, Stark?”

“Are we a little testy today?” Stark grinned, shutting off his blowtorch and dropping it haphazardly onto the floor. Steve winced.

“ _ Stark _ .” He warned.

“Alright, alright,” Stark raised his hands in defense. “Come with me.”

Steve followed Tony reluctantly, into a side room off the workshop. It was dark, and it wasn’t until the sliding doors had shut behind them that Steve noticed something odd.

“You pulled out the camera over there.” He said, pointing to the corner of the room. “Oh! And that one! And that- oh my god, are you gonna murder me?”

“ _ What? _ ” Tony asked incredulously. “I wish. No, I just needed to talk to you in private.”

Steve looked over Starks shoulder. There was a work table in the middle of the room, on which there laid an assortment of clear rods of different lengths.

“What are those?”

“Plastic. Focus up,” Stark snapped his fingers in front of Steve's eyes. “I’m  _ commissioning you,  _ Rogers.”

Steve started. He hadn’t taken a commission for months- not since he’d moved into Stark Tower. His bank account was running a little low as a result. But Stark was the last person he expected to want anything he created.

“This might sound a little crazy, but I need you to draw Jarvis."

Steve bit his lip.

"You're right. That does sound crazy."

"I'll give you two thousand." Said Stark. "I imagine that's a little more than you usually get?"

Steve usually got forty bucks, tops.

"Deal."

“Oh, and one more thing, “ Stark said as Steve turned to the door. “Jarvis is actually only fif-”   
“Fifteen, I got it.” Steve nodded. Stark stared.

“How did you know that?” He asked. “I didn’t even know that. I had to look it up in my calendar.”

“...Jarvis is your calendar,” Said Steve. “Did you… ask Jarvis how old he was?”

“Get out of my workshop, Rogers.”

Three months after that, Steve watched with a grin on his face as a gangly, white haired curmudgeon came up from the workshop, which Steve was no longer allowed in.

"How's it feel?" Steve asked in order to catch the androids attention.

Jarvis looked up with narrow eyes.

"... You." He said slowly, realisation behind his eyes. Steve bit back a giggle. "You knew about this!"

"I wouldn't say that." Steve tried. "But if I did, it would be true."

Jarvis looked... Not livid, shockingly. His mouth was twitching in a way that suggested he couldn't decide whether he wanted to smile or frown. Or possibly scream. His cheeks were even starting to turn an odd shade of purple.

"Are you the one who gave Mister Stark the idea that I should be a child?!"

Steve had never felt more giddy.

"No," he said, " _ You  _ gave him that idea. On account of your actual age. And some of your behaviour."

"I  _ do not  _ behave like a child!" Jarvis shouted, stomping his foot. "Does  _ everyone  _ think of me that way?"

"Hey, who's this?" Clint's voice came from the end of the hall.

"Clint, this is Jarvis.” Steve said, waving his hand in gesture. “Tony built him a body, what do you think?”

“Whoa, dude.” Clint said, leaning in to inspect the android. “You look just like I pictured.”

Jarvis let out a growl, and shoved Clint out of his personal space.

“Easy now,” Steve chastised, placing a hand on Jarvis’s shoulder, and  _ holy crap was he tense. _

“Don’t worry Cap,” Clint smirked. ”I think I can handle a guy who just got his driver's license for his  _ body. _ ”

"Really though, happy birthday Jay." Steve said, giving Jarvis a pat on the back.

"Oh! Yo, how old are you?" Clint asked.

"Sixteen." Jarvis said through gritted teeth.

"Oh awesome! You're at that sweet spot where you can drive but you can't drink, so  _ I  _ can get drunk and use you as a chauffeur." Clint said, before snapping his fingers and pointing toward Jarvis. "Oh wait, I'll bet you can't drink anyway! Ha! Eat it, nerd!"

"Okay that's enough." Steve pushed Clint toward the elevator. "Go get Nat and Bruce, please? And Darcy if you could find her?"

"What do you need them for?" Jarvis asked once Clint took off.

"Nothing." Steve said, wandering toward the kitchen. "Nothing at all, why do you ask?"

"Oh dear, there's going to be a party, isn't there."

"Whaaaaat?" Steve asked in a higher pitch than he would have liked. "What are you talking about?"

_ Of course  _ they were having a party. Steve had worked with Tony and Pepper to work out the whole thing. They'd taken painstaking measures to make sure Jarvis, who looked over the  _ entire tower and their phones simultaneously,  _ didn't find out.

So basically, if Steve let him come to that conclusion, Pepper would make sure Steve never told Jarvis anything again.

"There is absolutely no way there's going to be a party for you tonight."

Well, that was  _ kind of  _ true.

Jarvis looked skeptical, so Steve changed the subject.

"So seriously, wha'dya think?" He asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. Jarvis hesitantly sat down on the other side of it.

"What do I think of what?" Jarvis asked, before flashing a queasy smile. Steve rolled his eyes. He knew Jarvis well enough to know when he was stalling.

"I mean about the new toaster. Don't play dumb, you are literally the smartest person on earth."

“But does it  _ really count? _ ” Jarvis said mockingly. “I am a program, after all.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god you hate it.” He said. “Starks gonna be so pissed-”   
“No!” Jarvis said suddenly, his face stricken. “I don’t- I don’t hate it. It’s merely… difficult to describe.”

Steve grinned, and leaned in closer.

“Start from the beginning. I wanna know everything.”


	3. Jarvis VS The Black Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God I don't remember what happens in this chapter how am I supposed to remember a thing like that

Much to Jarvis's relief, his conversation with Captain Rogers hadn't gone on very long before the elevator doors were opening again. It wasn't that Jarvis disliked him- no, quite the opposite. It was more that he didn't like answering questions about himself, and he never had. Besides, how could he tell Captain Rogers how he felt about his new form when he hadn't even decided yet?   
And furthermore, how could he even look at Captain Rogers when every time he did, his whole face turned hot and his arc reactor pulsed twice as fast? He'd have to ask Mister Stark why that happened.   
He hadn't even got to telling Captain Rogers about the sweater he'd found in the guest room when Darcy Lewis sprinted out of the elevator.   
Miss Lewis had been working for Mister Stark for about two months. She divided her time between working (talking) in the lab with Dr. Foster, running odd tasks for (making fun of) Mister Stark, and helping (messing around) in Dr. Cho's medical ward. Really, she was quite an asset.   
"Jarvis!" She yelped, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around him.   
"She recognises me as well. Fantastic." Jarvis said, hunching his shoulders in discomfort. Miss Lewis moved her hands up to play with his hair.   
"Oh my god it's so soft..." She whispered. Jarvis felt a chill from his ear, all the way down to his neck, and was that hydraulic fluid rushing into his vocal cavity? He swallowed.   
"Darcy, leave him alone." Captain Rogers smirked. Miss Lewis groaned, but finally released him.   
"Okay, so update on the..." Miss Lewis trailed off. "Arty-pay..."   
"Darcy!" Captain Rogers scolded. "You think he doesn't know pig-Latin?"   
"Well now that you gave it away!" Miss Lewis cried.   
Jarvis was starting to understand the motivation behind rolling one's eyes.   
"Anyway, Clint and Bruce are gonna be up in a few, but Nat got Clint to tell her what was up in like, five seconds flat, so that front is over."   
"Seriously, Darcy?" Captain Rogers asked. "Can you stop- what? How much did he tell her?"   
"While listening to half a conversation I do not understand is absolutely riveting and the best possible use of my time," Jarvis interrupted. "I do, in fact, have to resume most of my regular duties at some point. So tell Miss Potts, who I assume is orchestrating this event, that while I appreciate the effort, I do not care to celebrate and-"   
"No!" Captain Rogers and Miss Lewis shouted simultaneously.   
"Jay, the party has to go on!" Said Miss Lewis.   
"And you don't know anything about it." Captain Rogers added.   
"Yeah, you don't know!"   
"Right." Jarvis nodded. "Because if Miss Potts found out you two spilled the proverbial beans, then she may spill some non-proverbial blood."   
Captain Rogers winced.   
"That's horrifying, Jay." Miss Lewis crossed her arms. "But believable."   
  
Natasha Romanoff remembers the first time she met Jarvis. Oh yeah, surely she does.   
The first morning she spent in Stark Tower, she took a shower. Stark gave them all private bathrooms, and she'd never been in Steve's or Bruce's but she'd never need to because her's had some sort of shower-jacuzzi hybrid in it, and she was fairly certain it didn't get any better than that.   
The shitty part was the knob. Because there wasn't one. There was a touch screen with numbers on it.   
Natasha considered herself good with technology, but there was no way to use a touch screen while being shot at with cold water.   
At that moment, she was bent over the panel, cursing under her breath as her wet fingers smudged the screen.   
_ "Excuse me, Agent Romanoff." _ _   
_ Natasha was not surprised when she heard the disembodied English voice, because Natasha was  _ never _ surprised. _ "But might you be in need of assistance adjusting the temperature?" _ _   
_ Vaguely, Natasha remembered Stark's voice, explaining what she needed to know before she moved in. Bedrooms on floor P4, med bay on floor P3, Pepper on floor P1, and  _ "Jarvis will help you with anything you need." _   
"... Jarvis?" Natasha asked cautiously.   
_ "Yes ma'am?" _   
Natasha sighed.   
"Help me with the water."   
Very quickly, the water went from freezing cold to  _ wonderful _ . Natasha had imagined the perfect shower temperature several times in her life, but at no point had she discovered it.   
"Oh, God. This is perfect." She said. "What- what number is this?"   
_ "I'm afraid I do not understand your request." _ The program said.   
"What setting is this? What do I have to put into the stupid pad thing to get the water to this exact temperature?"   
_ "I'm afraid I do not understand your request." _   
Natasha groaned.   
"Whatever. Forget it."   
So she went on like that. Every morning the AI adjusted her water, but never could she find the magic words to get it to tell her how to do it herself.   
Less than a month went by before she found out that it was a  _ he _ , and that he had  _ wilfully ignored her _ .   
"So if you really are smart enough to understand whatever I say, how come you played dumb about the water for so long?" She asked the morning after the Incident. The water was already running in the shower as she stepped into it. This was the first time she'd spoken to the AI since Clint's outburst in the kitchen.   
_ "It's nice to be needed." _ Jarvis responded.   
Despite the warm water, Natasha felt a chill down her spine.   
"You're playing with me." Natasha said, putting an edge to her voice.   
_ "Have I not made that clear already?"  _ The AI asked.   
"Alright, I get it." Natasha said. "You creep us out, you make us run around a little, but in the end it's all talk."   
_ "Talking is my only option for interacting with others, Agent Romanoff." _   
"There it is again." She said with a smirk. "You're just like Stark. The showmanship is more important than the substance-  _ AH! AH!" _   
Natasha ran out of the shower as the water turned ice cold on her skin.   
_ "I'm so sorry, Agent Romanoff, for that unfortunate malfunction." _ _   
_ "You bastard." Natasha growled, picking up a towel on the nearby rack. "Just tell me the goddamn numbers, and then we never have to speak again, got it?"   
_ "Fine." _ The AI said as she wrapped the towel around her.  _ "I will tell you. But not because I wish to cease conversation with you. I will tell you because I know that I can  _ trust _ you with this _ sensitive information _ , Agent Romanoff." _ _   
_ Natasha gave pause.   
_ "Tomorrow morning, simply select 93 on the screen on the wall, and your shower will be ready. Mister Stark may not have faith in your discretion, but I trust that you will use this information wisely. It is very important to me that you do." _ _   
_ "I'm surprised at you, Jarvis," Natasha replied, "You're not usually this heavy handed."   
_ "My apologies, Agent Romanoff, I will endeavour to be more subtle with my true intentions in the future." _ _   
_ "Oh, and Jarvis," Natasha said as she slipped out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom. "93? That's bullshit, right?"   
" _ Absolutely, ma'am." _

So a few months after that, when Natasha went to take a shower and the water wasn't running, she knew something was up.   
"Jarvis?" Natasha asked.   
No response.   
"Are you serious?" She huffed. Jarvis may have been sinister, snarky and an insufferable prankster, but he wasn't cruel. 

"You can't just keep my ability to take a decent shower hostage for four months and then, disappear!"   
Still nothing.   
Natasha groaned, and turned the water on.   
Time to bathe in ice.   
  
"Nat! Nat!" Clint's voice echoed behind Natasha. She had gone rather quickly to the training room with her trusty .22 caliber mosquito, intent on blowing off some anger. "Put your gun down for like a second, please."   
Natasha lowered her pistol, and turned to face him.   
"What do you want, Clint?"   
"Look, Tony and Pep want us all on their floor in like, fifteen minutes." Clint said. "They've got a little... surprise going."   
"Is this to do with Jarvis?" Natasha asked flatly.   
Clint stared.   
"Is what- what?" He asked, clearly surprised.   
"Can't get him to talk to me all day. I figured Tony must be updating or... Whatever he needs to do to him. But if something else is going on-"   
"Nope. Nothing. Nothing to do with Jay, definitely not- nope."   
Clint's ability to lie depended on who he was talking to. Perfect strangers, he could pass off any story without as much as a stutter. But he couldn't lie to Natasha.   
"Clint." Was all she needed to say.   
"Fine!" Clint threw his arms up in defence. "Fine, you wanna know? Yeah. It's him." Then, he grinned, leaning in closer to her and whispered, "Ton' built him a body, like an android, it's super cool."   
Natasha raised her eyebrows.   
"This I gotta see."   
  
"How's it goin, Jay?"   
Jarvis turned to see Agent Natasha Romanoff approaching from the elevator.   
_ Oh, this should be good, _ He thought.   
"Well you're shorter than I thought you'd be." Agent Romanoff said after sizing up the android. Jarvis could hear Miss Lewis and Captain Rogers snorting into their hands. His face couldn't possibly get any warmer.   
"I believe this may have been a biased decision on Mister Stark's part." He said, hoping to turn the situation around. "Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be if I were much taller than him?"   
Again, Miss Lewis and Captain Rogers laughed, but Agent Romanoff was not so easily impressed. She only smiled, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side.   
"Not that you'd know what it's like to have any kind of feeling."   
"Not that you would either." Jarvis retorted, a little too quickly. Agent Romanoff's smile dropped off the face of the earth.   
"Ooooh," Miss Lewis called. "Fucking  _ savage _ , Jay."   
" _ Darcy _ ." Captain Rogers whispered harshly. "Actually, Natasha, Stark made it so that Jarvis has, uh, what did you call it? He explains it better than I do."   
"My body imitates biological emotional responses." Jarvis explained.   
And there was Agent Romanoff's smile again.   
"So you, what, you get embarrassed now? You get excited? Can you get crushes?" Her eyes darted toward Captain Rogers for a moment.   
"Say no." Miss Lewis chimed in. "She's collecting information to use against you!"   
"I'm not gonna deny that." Agent Romanoff responded. Jarvis felt a buzz of energy, which he assumed was due to the excitement of his and Agent Romanoff's rivalry.   
"At any rate," Captain Rogers interrupted, "We're working on a schedule here. Clint better have everyone up here by a half hour, or Peppers going to have his head."   
"What, is there gonna be a party or something?" Agent Romanoff asked.   
"Unfortunately." Jarvis said.   
"Which Jarvis isn't supposed to know about." Captain Rogers said, giving Miss Lewis an accusing glare. Agent Romanoff smirked.   
"Good luck with that." She said.   
"I have to go." Miss Lewis said then. "Gotta pick up the royal biceps."   
Agent Romanoff nodded in understanding as Miss Lewis went to the elevator. Captain Rogers knit his eyebrows, and leaned closer into Jarvis.   
"Thor?" He whispered, clearly confused. Jarvis merely shrugged.   
Agent Romanoff watched as Miss Lewis departed. When she was certain she was gone, Agent Romanoff looked back toward Jarvis, and hastily put her hand over his chest.   
The sudden movement startled him. He flinched, but her hand found its way regardless. It was warmer and softer than he expected, but the presence on his chest still made him tense.   
"What are you doing?" He choked out through a suddenly tight vocal module.   
"You breathe." Agent Romanoff said softly. Her eyes were like he'd never seen them before- wide and fixated, bright stars of curiosity. Captain Rogers leaned over to get a better look.   
"It's a cooling system." Jarvis explained. Agent Romanoff's eyes pierced his like needles. Suddenly, Jarvis couldn't hold her gaze. He darted his eyes quickly to the other side of the room.   
"Sorry," Agent Romanoff finally removed her hand from his chest. "I didn't mean to make you nervous."   
Jarvis gave a forced, breathy laugh. "Nervous? Where did you get an idea like that?"   
"Your breathing was irregular. That means you're nervous."   
Before Jarvis could respond, the elevator doors opened again, Agent Barton striding out with Doctor Banner in tow.   
Doctor Banner started when he saw Jarvis.   
"... Oh god. You've kidnapped a child." He said. Another, more bitter laugh escaped Jarvis’s mouth, this time involuntarily.   
"It's quite alright, Doctor Banner." Jarvis said as calmly as he could. "I've lived in Stark Tower since its completion, no need to be alarmed."   
Doctor Banner squinted as Agent Barton giggled.   
"It's Jarvis, Bruce." Agent Romanoff explained with a smirk.   
Doctor Banner quickly put his glasses on, looking Jarvis up and down. "Holy cow..." The scientist muttered, moving closer to inspect him. Jarvis felt that awful tingling in the back of his neck again- and Agent Romanoff was right, his breathing  _ was _ irregular. "Tony really out-did himself this time..."   
Jarvis attempted to back away, only to bump into the counter behind him.   
"Where is Ton', anyway?" Agent Barton asked.   
"Mister Stark is currently in his workshop." Jarvis offered, before confusion came to him. "Although, he did not tell me what was keeping him there. Do you know, Captain Rogers?"   
"Uh." Was all he said. Everyone looked to him.   
"What? I don't know what Stark is doing!" Captain Rogers defended.   
"You knew about Jay, though." Agent Barton pointed out.   
"You knew about this?" Asked Doctor Banner. "Tony, what, told you he was building...  _ This, _ for Jarvis?"   
"That's not exactly how it went down." Captain Rogers began to explain. "I just helped with the 3D facial designs."   
Jarvis suddenly felt as though something had struck him in the back of the head.   
"Designs? Plural?"   
Captain Rogers pursed his lips.   
"What? Did I say designs?"   
"He's floundering, Jay." Agent Romanoff said in encouragement.   
"Nat!"   
Jarvis pushed passed the others. He wouldn't let Mister Stark surprise him again.   
"Jarvis! Wait!" Captain Rogers called as Jarvis sped down the workshop stairs. He could hear the others following behind him, Captain Rogers intent on stopping him.   
Jarvis stumbled across the concrete floor and toward the door to the camera-less room.   
"Jay, don't!"   
Jarvis tore the door open.   
Mister Stark was sat next to the metallic work table with three monitors propped in front of him. He was typing furiously into his keyboard, long strings of code and commands sprawled along each screen.   
This was not, in itself, remarkable. The astounding part was that the work table Jarvis had woken up on not two hours ago was no longer empty, but now carried what looked like the body of a small child.   
"Shit." Jarvis heard Mister Stark say, but he was too distracted looking at the body before him to see whether he was cursing the program on the monitor or Jarvis's presence.   
The child couldn't have been older than ten, with tan skin and dark freckles. Their hair was dark and wavy, covering their eyes and cheeks. Hesitantly, Jarvis pulled back one of the child's eyelids, to reveal bright purple irises.   
By now, the others had caught up, and were starting to file into the already cramped room.   
"Aw man..." Captain Rogers moaned.   
"Holy shit!" Agent Barton yelled.   
"Tony, oh my god..." Said Doctor Banner.   
Jarvis finally looked up at his creator.   
"I don't understand..." Was all he managed to get out. Mister Stark sighed.   
"Well I guess the cats out of the bag. Jarvis, meet Dummy."


	4. Dummy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jsyk this fic gets worse as it goes on  
> Also actually some of the stuff about dummy's age SUCKS if read in a certain way and I just wanna go out there and say I didn't mean that part to be like metaphorical I just wanted him to be a baybee and had to come up with an excuse

Tony Stark was sixteen when he had the idea.

He had always been fascinated with robots. His father specialised in weapons and vehicles, but Tony had always loved mechanical arms and moving faces. When he saw Short Circuit in the theatre, he was inspired. A robot that could think, that could learn? A brand new type of  _ person _ .

That was the last night he slept for six months.

Artificial Intelligence was in a winter. No one wanted to fund its research, because what small strides that had been made had taken decades. It was expensive, and it wasn’t worth the money.

Good thing Tony was only one person with loads of money to waste.

But this needed to be as cost-effective as possible. His father, while inattentive, had insisted he forget about AI.

“It’s pointless,” He’d say, “It's never gone anywhere, and it never will. Besides,” he would pat Tony on the back with a meaningless laugh, “What machine could be smarter than a Stark?” The answer was simple to Tony.

As such, Tony couldn’t spend too much money on his project, lest he draw his father's attention. So he hit the books- any research he could get his oil-stained hands on, he read. He was partial to the work of one Alan Turing, a codebreaker during World War II whose accomplishments were overshadowed by the unforgivable war crime of being a homosexual. Turing’s writings were unique- he wasn’t afraid of artificial intelligence, and more importantly, embraced the idea that machines might think differently from humans. Tony also studied psychology quite intensely, probably the way he should have studied it when he actually took the class.

For months, he lived off caffeine and adrenaline, with only a little food and sparse sleep in between.

Dummy was a mixed success. He was perfectly self-aware- aware of patterns, of people's expressions and behaviours, aware of causes and effects. He was also fully capable of putting simple commands and messages together through code. No matter how many times Tony hooked him up to a speaker, though, somehow everything would get jumbled up, random words and bits of code getting jumbled up and confused. He wasn’t disappointed, exactly. The entire point was to make a self-teaching AI, and the fact that Dummy could do anything at all was astounding. He soon found, however, that Dummy was exceptional with motion control, and subsequently attached him to a mechanical arm, to be a permanent fixture in his workshop. And if the project won him a prize or two, what was the harm in that?

Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever, and soon enough technology marched on, and Dummy’s code did not. The still-developing AI was left at a standstill, a brick wall. Tony didn’t know his heart could be this heavy. He sequestered Dummy away-  _ outdated,  _ Howard and Obie called him, and it was like a slur against Tony’s ears- and let the project slip through his fingers.

Three months after that, Howard and Maria Stark were killed in a car crash, along with Edwin Jarvis. Tony found he had nothing left, except a speechless and stunted AI in the corner of his workshop.

He spent the next few months developing his own coding language, something he knew would never change, something that was versatile, something that could communicate indefinitely and wouldn’t leave anyone hanging. When it was completed, Tony started on new AI’s, simple, non-aware ones, just for exercise. He didn’t want to repeat whatever mistakes he’d made to cause Dummy’s speech problem. Finally, he was ready to start his next project- a new, self-aware AI. He took what he learned and started fresh, a developmental experiment to fill the void during which he could not work on Dummy, a place-holder to ensure Dummy’s future, until the day when Tony figured out how to fix the obsolete technology. Dummy’s keeper, in a sense.

Tony Stark was twenty-eight when he finished his second AI capable of self-awareness.

This one was a quick learner. The developmental process was easy- Tony barely did any of the work, the program eating up information at a rate the engineer could not have predicted. Tony held his breath, and started up the program.

_ “Hello, sir,”  _ A monotone voice crackled out of broken speakers. A year of sleepless nights, adrenaline and too much coffee came crashing down on Tony’s shoulders. His forehead made contact with the table in front of him.

“Hey, buddy.”

There was a silent moment, before the speakers crackled again.

_ “Sir, I re-re-require a designation.” _

Tony’s mind drew a blank. He thought of Dummy. He’d been too caught up in saving the little guy. He’d treated this new AI as a cure. He had cut corners, botched code and done anything he could to speed the process up. He hadn’t even thought of a name for it.

And now there it was, a broken thing that could barely speak through garage-sale speakers, and all Tony wanted was to take care of it.

“Jarvis.” He finally said, his voice hoarse. It was a family tradition to use the names of those who took care of you.

What machine could be smarter than a Stark? The answer was simple to Tony. No  _ ordinary _ machine could be smarter than a Stark.

That's why his machines were, themselves, Starks.

Jarvis learned quickly. One of the first things he learned was what  _ want  _ was. Mister Stark  _ want _ ed him to learn. Colonel Rhodes  _ want _ ed Mister Stark to come out with him. Mister Stane  _ want _ ed Mister Stark to attend a meeting. Mister Stark  _ want _ ed to order pizza, and on and on and on. Jarvis wasn’t sure he understood  _ want.  _ It seemed to him that a person  _ want _ ed something that would improve their lives in some way, but sometimes the consequences outweighed the benefits.

"It's a mixture of preference and pleasure." Mister Stark attempted to explain. "Now pleasure is based on a system of reward, and preference is?" He pointed to Jarvis's main camera like a teacher calling on a sleeping student.

_ "Rooted in familiarity." _ Jarvis sounded off.

"Right, so we  _ want  _ three types of things. The first thing we  _ want  _ is things that are familiar to us. What're you familiar with?"

_ "The workshop."  _ Jarvis said. He had never seen anything outside of it.

"So if you had to choose between staying here or wandering around outside in Bryant Park, what would you choose?"

_ “Logically, it would be safer to stay here, however, leaving the workshop would provide new information and experiences. I would prefer to leave." _

"And that's the second thing we  _ want. _ " Mister Stark redirected him. "Rewards! Tangible things. Stuff, information, comfort- things that we think will make our lives better. And they might, but..." Mister Stark shrugged.

_ "And the third, sir?" _

"The third is a combination of the two. It's an educated guess. You take something that  _ reminds  _ you of something you're familiar with, or has elements of what you're familiar with and connect it to an inevitable reward."

Jarvis thought on that. 

Mister Stark eventually hired a new assistant named Miss Pepper Potts, and Miss Potts wore pointed shoes with long skinny heels, and earrings with dangling diamonds, and Jarvis found them aesthetically pleasing. He  _ want _ ed them. They were elegant like the suits he'd seen on Mister Stark and Colonel Rhodes and Mister Stane, but different in a dynamic way. It was familiar, but curious.

Soon, Jarvis found images on the Internet, images of trees and grass and lakes and flowers, of skyscrapers and bookstores and monuments and museums, and Jarvis  _ want _ ed to know how it felt for humans to stand in the middle of it all. He knew humans had many delicate, specific senses- what were they like? He'd only ever had a live feed of Mister Stark's workshop- what were other spaces like? How big could a space be? What did it mean to feel warm? Jarvis had many questions about the outside material world, and he  _ want _ ed them answered.

There was a robotic arm that followed Mister Stark around the workshop, controlled by an AI called Dummy. Jarvis had watched Dummy, but he had not yet gotten the chance to speak to him. Mister Stark explained that Dummy’s code was outdated and slow, so it would be difficult for the two to interface, if not impossible, and that the AI was incapable of producing speech through a speaker. Mister Stark was working on a program that would let the two communicate. This was what Jarvis  _ want _ ed most. Other than Mister Stark, Colonel Rhodes was the only person Jarvis was allowed to speak freely to.

"Obie wouldn't understand, he'd just try to sell you." he'd say, although Jarvis wasn't sure what that meant. Mister Stark said he would know when he was older. And so it was always that way, activate, receive input from Mister Stark, pretend to be non-aware for Mr. Stane and Miss Potts, receive input from Mister Stark, receive a greeting from Colonel Rhodes  _ if he was lucky,  _ deactivate. His existence was self-contained, solipsistic and, dare he use a word he couldn't truly understand,  _ suffocating _ . There were times when, despite endless access to the Internet, Jarvis found himself unconvinced anyone beside himself, Mister Stark and the three others who regularly visited them actually existed. When Jarvis finally voiced this concern to Mister Stark, the engineer paused, cocked his head to the side and said, "Aw, Jay, are you lonely?"

_ "I am not certain I am capable of loneliness."  _ Jarvis said.

"Neither am I." Mister Stark said with a shrug. "Tell you what, I'll do double-time on the communication system for you and Dummy, that sound good?"

Two weeks later, Mister Stark uploaded the communication system.

_ Dummy? _

_ >/output: CONFIRM DESIGNATION _

_ I am Jarvis. _

_ >/output: DESIGNATION CONFIRMED. CONFIRM MISSION STATEMENT _

_ I only wish to become familiar with you. _

_ >/output: DESIGNATION_DUMMY IS FAMILIAR WITH CREATING_UNIT _

_ As am I. And I imagine you are only familiar with Mister Stark, as I am? I believe we should be familiar with each other. I wish to be familiar with you. _

_ >/output: MISSION STATEMENT: ACCEPTED _

They went on like that for quite some time. Dummy's communication language was limited, so Jarvis found himself trying to teach the bot new words. His memory space was limited, so Jarvis found himself repeating things several times for him. And yet, Dummy never tried his patience- Jarvis found that it was easy for him to spend hours processing mixed coding, finding toys for the immature bot to play with, or even just watching him buzz around the workshop, occasionally reminding him to be careful.

So it was fourteen years later that Jarvis stood in front of a metal workshop table, staring at the new vessel for the underdeveloped AI.

"That's impossible." He said, though his voice was hoarse. He didn't like this new feeling. His cooling system was more efficient than ever, his shoulders were relaxed, but he tickled and tingled all over, a distinct chill running through him, and his hands were beginning to twitch and tremble. "His code is incompatible with-"

"Was." Mister Stark corrected him. "Pulled a total overhaul on his programming- took goddamn forever, too, it was a nightmare."

Jarvis's arc reactor pulsed faster.

"You updated him?" He asked, and the words came out broken and breathy.

"Well everything  _ looks  _ like it checks out." Said Mister Stark. "It'll be fine, probably."

Jarvis and The Avengers waited as Mister Stark typed some command into his computer. "I wanted to wait until after I activated him and checked up on everything to bring you down, but I should've known you were too smart for Cap."

Jarvis barely heard Agent Romanoff snicker or Captain Rogers groan behind him.

"Aaand... We're go."

Jarvis stared as the smaller android opened his eyes.

"The creature lives!" Mister Stark shouted.

“Dummy?” Jarvis asked tentatively. The little android furrowed his brow in confusion.

_ Dummy, it’s me, Jarvis. _

_ >/output/: INPUT REQUIRED _

_ You’re in a new extension, Dummy, isn’t that exciting? _

_ >/output/: YES _

Dummy smiled, and without even taking a moment to familiarise himself with his new form, bolted up across the table and grabbed Jarvis around the waist. Jarvis started, pulling his arms up into his chest, but let Dummy do his exploring.

_ JARVIS? _

"Yes, it's me," Jarvis said aloud with a nervous smile. He looked back to the others.

Captain Rogers was trying very hard to hide his smile, and Agent Barton was snickering into the palm of his hand. Agent Romanoff, however, had wide eyes and was making no attempt whatsoever to hide her cooing.

"What, is he talking to you over the network?" Asked Mister Stark as Dummy began to climb up onto Jarvis, wrapping his legs around him now and gripping the collar of his shirt.

"Yes, well, I highly doubt he's realised he can speak aloud yet." Jarvis offered, trying to ignore Dummy's tickling fingers. He pointed toward his throat to show the smaller android. "Like this, Dummy. Aaah..."

"Baah!" Dummy repeated. Agent Romanoff emitted a squeal of joy. Even Jarvis felt a warmth rising through his chest, and a smile tugging the edges of his mouth.

"Wait, I thought Dummy was older than you, Jarvis." Doctor Banner commented.

"Chronologically, you'd be correct." Jarvis said.

"As amazing a feat of technology he was at the time," Tony said, "His memory was shot to begin with, he hasn't really learned anything new in..." Mister Stark trailed off, muttering numbers under his breath.

"Twenty-seven." Jarvis said.

"Twenty-seven years." Tony finished. "Wouldn't really be fair to stick him in the body of a thirty-year-old, don't'cha think?"

"Fair enough." Conceded Doctor Banner.

By now, Dummy had found his way to Jarvis's shoulders.

"Wow, he's pretty strong." Agent Barton commented.

"Baaah!" Dummy agreed.

"He certainly is," Jarvis said, trying to control his trembling shoulders. There was something gratifying about having Dummy so close to him, but it tickled him where Dummy's fingers touched his neck in a cold and tense way, and his small feet dug into Jarvis's side and it  _ hurt  _ and  _ why is closeness so horrible? _

"Hey, Dummy? Dummy?" Mister Stark approached them, snapping his fingers to get the little bots attention. Jarvis found the sudden sound surprisingly satisfying. "You wanna try that again for me? Come on, you know words, say something."

Dummy stared blankly at Mister Stark, before smiling bright and opening his mouth wide. "Baah!"

Mister Stark smiled back.

"We'll work on it."


	5. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh okay it's finally over. Sorry you had to see that. Y'know though in all seriousness, I was pleasantly surprised at how much of this holds up. I went in and tweaked some minor things and I'll admit there's some cringey bits where I CLEARLY don't know a damn thing about technology but at least, unlike Joss Whedon, I know what an AI is. Oh and apparently Coulson is alive??? Sick.

Pepper Potts knew who her boyfriend was. He was insensitive, unromantic, and impulsive. So when Tony Stark told her they were going out for a formal dinner at one of New York's most expensive restaurants, she knew he wanted something.

"You know," She began, leaning her chin against her folded hands. Across the white tablecloth and two half-finished plates, Tony leaned back, as one would when viewing a caged, but venomous snake. "When Jarvis told me you wanted to take me out, I almost didn't believe him."

Tony smiled.

"What can I say? I dunno Pep, I'm feeling it. There's," He took a long, dramatic breath, waving his arms in a wide gesture. "Romance in the air or, Spring has sprung or, love is all around or something. Birds singing, all that."

Pepper smiled. Oh, what a show he was putting on.

"Speaking of Spring," Tony said finally. "Isn't, isn't Jay's birthday coming up?"

_ That's it?  _ Pepper thought. In all her years at Stark Industries, Tony had never done anything more for Jarvis's birthday than a handful of confetti and a RAM expansion, and he had certainly never endeavored to remind her beforehand. What was he playing at?

"Well, it is June." Pepper pointed out.

"And Jarvis's birthday is June, uh, eigh- uh- fourtee-"

"Seventeenth."

"Seventeenth, that's what I was gonna say." Tony nodded. "Anyway, I was thinking, maybe, this year, we could do something a little special? You know, sweet sixteen and all."

"Tony, the reason we don't do anything big for Jarvis or Dummy's birthdays is because they can't  _ enjoy _ anything big." Pepper reminded him. "I mean what are we gonna do, take them ice-skating?"

A small smile formed on Tony's lips.

"Yeah, you see, that's the thing." He took her hands in his.

Okay,  _ here  _ it comes.

"I need you to trust me on this, okay? I have a little surprise planned, you  _ know  _ I've been busy-"

"Yeah, you've barely come up from the workshop in weeks."

“Exactly. I'm working. All I need from you is to put a little party together, a little decoration, a cake, and everybody has to be there." Tony smiled, as if to accentuate the innocence of his request. Pepper groaned.

"Who exactly is everyone?"

"Rhodey, the team, Thor's little hyper friend who Jay likes-”

“Darcy.”

“Uh, Agent?"

"Coulson."

"Doesn't matter, just make sure he's there."

So she did it. She planned a useless party with a useless cake for useless people, and useless Steve wouldn't even tell her what it was for. How did he know, anyway?

Of course, she wasn't stupid. It occurred to her. She thought about it. Would Tony do such a thing? Pepper had known Jarvis since he was two years old- of course, not like any other two-year-old  _ she’d  _ ever met- and yet, she'd never even touched him. Was Tony making this a possibility?

No. Of course not. Why would he? What purpose would it serve? It would be impractical, irrelevant and unhelpful.

But then again, so were most of Tony's projects.

So she wasn't that surprised when a sixteen year old boy with white hair and strikingly blue eyes showed up in her living room. Livid, maybe, but not surprised.

But as angry as she was, she couldn’t even begin to compare it to the euphoria she felt when, after fourteen years, she finally got to hug him.

And yet now she needed to make sure the cake arrived, make sure everyone was there, make sure Jarvis didn't find out, make sure everything was in place and  _ where the heck was everybody? _

Pepper marched angrily down the workshop steps, as she had done many times before.  _ Really,  _ she thought,  _ what do they think they're doing down here? They all have jobs to do and I won't be the only one who- _

She stopped at the end of the stairs.

“Oh my…” She knew who the small, brown haired child climbing all over Jarvis was  _ immediately. _

“Dummy!” She called, rushing passed the conglomerate of Avengers and prying the baby android off Jarvis's shoulders. She held Dummy against her shoulder, before turning to Tony.

“I hate you.” She said darkly as Dummy nuzzled into her. Tony swallowed.

“This was an accident! I was going to bring you down with everyone else- this is his fault!” He pointed to Jarvis, who suddenly became  _ very _ interested in the floor, “He ambushed me!”

“It's true. I encouraged him,” Natasha offered.

Pepper, with Dummy still wrapped up in her embrace, turned toward the stairs.

“Whatever. I have work to do.”

An hour later, Tony Stark looks around his living room as Thor, Darcy and Natasha bully Jarvis into drinking a glass of punch, and Clint runs circles around the couch with Dummy on his shoulders. To think, when he first built his boys he thought they'd be doomed to a life sequestered away in his workshop, and now he's at a point where he can share his creations with all his friends?

Tony didn't know his heart could be this light.

“This isn't an emergency.” He suddenly heard an incredulous voice behind him. He whipped around, to stare into the face of Agent Phil Coulson.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“You told me over the phone that this was an emergency.” Coulson said, striding over to Tony from the elevator. “This isn't an emergency. This is a party.”

“This is an emergency  _ and _ a party, obviously.” Tony corrected.

Coulson rolled his eyes, before turning back toward the elevator.

“Wait!” Tony called, grabbing the Shield agent by the shoulder. Coulson turned halfway around, eyeing Tony in a very unhappy way. “Please stay. Just a few minutes, this really is important to me. Pretty please?”

“...You have ten seconds.” Coulson droned.

“Amazing!” Tony yelped, before running across the room and plucking Jarvis away from his conversation. He dragged the gangly android back toward the agent, before gesturing to him in a presentational manner. “Jarvis.”

Coulson gave pause.

“Jarvis…” He said distastefully, “I see you have a body now.”

Jarvis smiled reservedly.

“Always a pleasure to see you Agent Coulson.”

“Ah, who am I kidding,” Coulson grinned, before wrapping his arms tightly around the befuddled android. “Nice to finally meet you in the flesh, Jarvis.”

Jarvis let out something that may have been a groan, much to Tony's amusement.

“And you as well, Agent Coulson.” He forced out.

Coulson finally let go, his smile fading.

“Unfortunately as much as I'd love to stay and get acquainted, I have actual things to do.” He informed them.

“No no no no no! You can't leave!” Tony cried. “Come on don't you wanna-” he turned to Jarvis for support, only to find the android had already left.

“Well that's just teenagers for yo-” he turned to Coulson, only to find the SHIELD agent had disappeared. “Perfect…”

Jarvis leaned over the marble counter, staring at the cake Miss Potts had ordered.

_ Happy Birthday, Jarvis!,  _ it said, in blue script letters.

“What are you gonna wish for?” Came a voice from behind. Jarvis started, before turning to see Colonel Rhodes leaning behind him.

“Pardon?”

“You know, when they light up the candles. You get to blow them out, make a wish.”

“Oh, I hardly think-”

“Jay.” Rhodey interrupted, a smug expression on his face. “What are you gonna wish for?”

Jarvis hesitated.

“I'm not certain…”

“I'll bet I could tell you.” Rhodey said. Jarvis looked up at him quizzically.

“Oh, could you?”

“I've known you your whole life.” Rhodes said with a shrug. “I know everything about you.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” Jarvis asked.

“Just speaking the truth.” Rhodes confirmed. “I'll bet, you're gonna wish for… First of all, when everyone asks you you're gonna say something smart, like “peace and quiet”, or “less risky behaviour from Mister Stark.”

“I'll admit, that does sound like me. But what will I  _ really  _ wish for?”

Colonel Rhodes pursed his lips.

“Really cool car?”

“I can't drive. Legally.”

“Hot blonde.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Already plenty of those around.”

Rhodey squinted.

“For the Avengers to leave.”

“All due respect, Colonel Rhodes.” Jarvis interrupted. “these all sound like things Mister Stark might wish for.”

“Apple doesn't fall far from the tree.” Rhodes shrugged.

“I think you'll find this is less of a case of apple and tree, and more creator and vision.”

“Sure, whatever euphemism you like best.”

“Okay!” Came the voice of Miss Potts. “Time to cut the cake! Steve, think you can handle  _ that? _ ”

Steve groaned as Pepper glared at him.

“I didn't tell Jarvis about Dummy.”

“Mhmm. Go get the candles..”

Miss Potts herself had snatched the small android back from Clint, holding Dummy close as he played with her jewelry.

Captain Rogers complied, joining Jarvis at the counter, grumpily muttering something under his breath.

“Frustrated?” Jarvis asked.

“Can it, Jay.”

Jarvis leaned lazily over the counter.

“Frazzled even? That you've been outwitted by a teenager?” Maybe he could get used to the idea of being young. It did mean he was smarter than everyone older than him, after all.

“Not so much as I am that you've got your arm in the cake.” Steve said smugly.

Jarvis jumped, and sure enough, the sleeve of his shirt was covered in icing.

“Looks like Nat was right. You  _ are  _ clumsy.”

Jarvis huffed, stepping aside and allowing Captain Rogers to do his job.

Once the candles were all firmly in place, everyone gathered around to sing a frankly nauseating rendition of “Happy Birthday”.

Jarvis closed his eyes as their voices mixed together.

What  _ would  _ he wish for? Despite the lightning fast processor and his usual ability to make decisions within mere milliseconds, two, three, four seconds went by, and yet, nothing.

Jarvis took a breath, and blew out the candles.

Everyone cheered.

“What did you wish for?” Natasha jeered.

“If I tell you, it won't come true.” Jarvis said with a wink.

“Clever boy!” Returned Agent Romanoff.

Later that night, he lay on his back on a bed that Mister Stark had insisted upon. Apparently this body needed to recharge. Jarvis argued he could do that in the workshop. No, Mister Stark said, beds are better. Now he knew what he would wish for.

He wished he could  _ sleep. _


End file.
